Hungary's Children: Tales from 1983 Doomsday
by mdc1957
Summary: The nightmare of Doomsday took many lives. Hungary was among those lost to the chaos, but her people lived on in increasingly different forms. Here lies the stories behind the children she had left behind...and returned to. An AU duo of tales from the Doomsday-verse. Warning for OCs and character death. Currently completed.
1. Sopron: A Child of Hungary

Author's Notes: Here a duo of fics from the Doomsday-verse focusing on the backstories of a couple of OCs from that AU, set over the initial years after Doomsday itself. Thing is, both of them happen to have a close connection to Hungary...in more ways than one. Indeed, this ties in to a number of fics from the AU, including _Her Guarding Arm _while also serving as a sort of foreshadowing to the Christmas-themed stories.

Admittedly, it took some effort trying to capture some sense of innocence and childhood wonder while keeping the fact that there's something dark beneath the surface, namely the initial post-apocalyptic chaos brought about by Doomsday. As well as finding a way to put both Julia's parents and Romania in without them ever meeting each other. Also, their origins (which involve Austria and Hungary for Sopron; Romania and Transylvania for Partium) were made both clear and still deliberately mysterious despite the many differences. There's just enough to give hints of what happened, but I hope it wasn't too cruel. Still, I hope you enjoy!

I neither own _Hetalia_ nor _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

**_A Child of Hungary_**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Survivor-Nation's Eyes._**

Somewhere in Sopron. 1989.

It seemed more tiring than usual, Julia thought as she sat by the window, coughing a little as she toyed around with a worn-out flute. Anything to keep her mind off from the nagging exhaustion, really. It must have been that trip to the nurse again. Or that hide-and-seek game with the other orphans. Or might have been that pack of rations from those soldiers. But then again, she knew better. _At least I still had fun!_ she assured herself with a smile. With deft hands, she gingerly lifted the chipped off mouthpiece close to her.

Outside, she caught a glimpse of the street crossing past the orphanage. Many of the buildings across from her were either grimy or broken down, the worse ones looking more like they were held together by iron planks. Only a few withered window-side flowers and the partly burnt Firewatch Tower not far off were left to suggest that this place had been beautiful once. On the road below, there were tired-looking men in Austrian uniforms walking amidst the rusting cars. There were also others among them. Some were playing with makeshift toys on the sidewalk while the older ones either went about their business or lined up along the many food camps. Yet despite all their ragged looks, they still persisted in the hope that tomorrow would be better. It was something Julia felt and shared not only with them but all of the Frontier's people.

"My people…" Sopron sighed warmly under her breath as she closed her eyes. It no longer mattered to her whether they were children, locals or refugees. They were all her, just as she was all of them. _I wonder if they'll ever know…_ "I just hope this helps." She gingerly began playing, the notes echoing around the empty room.

The little girl always liked music for some reason. The caretakers even mentioned how she seemed to play like a musician "for someone her age." Then again, Julia herself wasn't even sure how old she really was. After all, she still looked the same way she did when she first entered the orphanage…

_Én Istenëm, adjál szállást,  
Már mëguntam a járkálást,  
a bujdosást,  
Az idegën földön lakást._

The flute dropped to the ground as the lyrics played in her head. It felt so distant yet so comforting. _So familiar…I've heard this!_ It was an old lullaby from a past that seemed just out from her reach. It always stuck her odd how, despite knowing so much about her people and history, her own origins were shrouded in mystery. To be sure, she didn't really see herself as ordinary, let alone human. In fact, she barely got older while the other orphans around her _did_. But if there was one memory still clear in her mind, it was of being with her parents. Of a man in glasses playing on a beautiful piano, whose face she couldn't quite remember. Of being held on her mother's arms as she sang that very song to her.

_Hungary's ever loyal town,_ Sopron remembered, coughing even as tears started to well up. _Mama's pride and joy…_ She was sure that they'd all been separated at some point. But try as she might, most of her memories from those days seemed like a vague blur. Come to think of it, things only started becoming clearer shortly after that event people were now calling Doomsday, almost as though she wasn't entirely whole until then. That thought usually made her feel down. It made her afraid of what really happened to her and the family she lost. Scared of the nagging void that always seemed to gnaw at her from the inside.

Yet the young girl still smiled. Her people were getting by, right? And with all those refugees finding shelter in her place, surely her mother might still be somewhere out there. _Don't want to worry her too much. Just have to keep going…and…_

The yawn coming out from her mouth seemed to make her even more tired. Julia found it harder to sit up straight as she saw one of the caretakers rush towards her. Weakly yet still with a smile on her face, Julia made her way towards the man, who muttered something in German before lifting her up, though not before managing to have a glimpse of a strange man in a dusty looking outfit walking down the street. There was something about the man's brown hair and glasses that seemed oddly familiar. But whoever it was, she couldn't tell. Her eyes barely even stayed open now.

Maybe one day, she'd be able to see her parents again. For now, though, there were other things to worry about.

-o-

Sopron had no idea _where_ she was. But wherever it is, everything seemed wrong. There were screams everywhere. More than she could count. The walls not only looked as though they'd fall down at any minute but also seemed to close in ever so slowly. All while an indescribable blackness and even more haunting voices came from the door in front of her. Needless to say, she didn't want to be here.

"Don't be afraid…" the little girl mumbled to herself, more nervous than confident as she found it harder to breathe. It wasn't the first time this had happened. After so many times, she shouldn't be scared of whatever's trying to break through that door. "Come on…think!" Briskly she looked all around her for something to use against _them_. But even the rusting and makeshift trash on her feet crumbled the moment she touched any of it. Her eyes frantically looked for a place to escape to. Anywhere but here! And…nothing.

_Trapped…_ The thought made Julia panic inside. She couldn't back down. She musn't. They were breaking through. Something dark red was seeping in. God, she could _hear_ them now. Russian screams. People shouting. Dying. Talk of finishing her off like they did Hungary. But Mama can't be dead! _Can she? NEM! I won't give in. Won't give in. Won't give in! WON'T GIVE IN! I CAN'T! I CAN'T! Mama…Papa…Remélem! HELP!_

"You're not going after me! YOU WON'T TAKE ME!"

She braced herself as the door snapped open. Then all of a sudden, there seemed to be a piercing, yet strangely comforting cry. _Gyermekem..._ a familiar voice echoed. _You're not an orphan. Never will be!_

Everything around her vanished in an instant, replaced by a warm glow. And then Julia woke up. _A dream…right…_Sweating, she found herself back on her old, creaking bed. There was no one else around. And yet there was a strange feeling that _someone_ was close. Gingerly, she turned her head towards what looked like a faint wisp. Only for her eyes to open wide.

For a moment, she caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman who was somehow there and yet_wasn't_. She couldn't really describe it, but something about her seemed so warm. So familiar. But it was in the figure's face, her gentle green eyes that brought about a beaming smile on her face.

"Mama? Are you there?"

Before Sopron could reach out to her, however, she was gone. Though not before managing to see her mother smile back. A part of her wanted to fall apart. But she continued smiling. It was something she would always treasure. The light coming from outside seemed brighter than usual. Something seemed to come up as the last notes from the old lullaby echoed in her mind.

_...Küldje hozzám szent angyalát,  
Bátoritsa szívünk álmát,  
Adjon Isten jó éjszakát…_

The young child of Hungary had no idea why. But somehow, she had a feeling that her mother would see her again.

Very soon.

* * *

As for some reference:

Sopron is in RL a Hungarian city (or rather, half-Austrian, half-Hungarian) along the Austrian border; it used to be called Odenburg until the 1920s when the townsfolk chose to side with Hungary rather than Austria, hence why it's also known in English as Hungary's "ever loyal town." In the AU, she's part of the Alpine Confederation...but at this point, she's still a young child, her people only recently been brought under Austro-Swiss protection.

Some of the bleaker moments were based both on what happened to both Austria and Hungary during Doomsday itself and the events of _An Ocean of Flame Above_...especially how she died. This also involves some overlap with a scene from _Her Guarding Arm_ involving Austria.

The Firewatch Tower is a real historical landmark in Sopron dating back to the middle ages. Although it gained additional importance due to it becoming associated with the town's "loyalty" towards Hungary.

The Hungarian lyrics were taken from a traditional folk song called _Estl Dal_ or "Evening Song." The lyrics used when translated into English read:

_Oh, my Lord, give me a place to sleep,  
I am weary with wandering,  
With walking around and hiding,  
With living on foreign land..._

_...May he send me a holy angel,  
May he encourage our hearts' dreams,  
May he give us a good night._

_Remélem_ - "Please God..." (Hungarian)  
_Gyermekem_ - "My Child..." (Hungarian)


	2. Partium: Youth on the Plains

**_Youth on the Plains_**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Survivor-Nation's Eyes._**

Somewhere outside Debrecen. 2000.

_Today seems different,_ Janos thought quietly as he blocked another strike from his brother before attempting to land a blow at his right side, only to end up stumbling on the ground. It hurt definitely, but he was used to sweat and bruises like most boys his age. Then again, he wasn't like most boys nor as young as he pretended to be. But for some reason, something felt rather off. _Like he's hiding something…_ Just thinking about it only made him all the more confused even as he tried to sit up. _What the heck is it?!_

"I've seen worse fights. But that's enough sparring," his more teenage-looking sibling said all of a sudden while he helped the kid up. The odd-looking fangs that seemed to attach themselves in front of the boy's mouth were visible for a second. "We're also skipping your firearms lessons for today. Besides, you'll need all the rest for the next couple days."

The boy was caught by surprise, though he was glad it didn't show through his panting. Transylvania normally didn't do something _that_ obviously nice often. In fact, the sun was still high up. _Something's definitely up!_ "What do you have this time, Vlad?"

"How many times do I have to say this?" the other boy sighed while dusting off his old Doomsday-era uniform. "First of all, don't call me that while in training! Second, your balance still needs work, so don't come running to me if some warlord knocks some sense into 'ya. And lastly…" he smirked. "While would I spoil the fun right away? But I'll give you a hint: it's something you and your people have been waiting for."

Janos grunted a little as he shrugged. Even though they were both far away from the rusted, makeshift barricades, he still could hear and sense the faint murmurs of firefights going on in the distance. It's not like he could really blame his "big brother." With all the upheavals going on in the Romanian wastes and the pressures on Transylvania's leaders, Vlad could only do so much. Then again, that fanged boy was not only the closest thing to a friend he's had but had also officially adopted him only some months ago. But if not for that fateful meeting 10 years earlier, what would have become of the people of Debrecen? _Of me?_

To be sure, the boy and his people have been able to hold their own up until now, even if only barely. But as much as he wanted to deny it, he still owed a lot to the older Survivor-Nation's at time off-handed help. Almost as much as he owed his very existence not merely to some stroke of luck that spared his city from the atomic fires. But to a country that built his city in the first place. One that as far as anyone knew, wasn't coming back anytime soon. _Mother…_ He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think of that. Besides, whatever was being kept away better be what he's been hoping for. In fact, it might be a good excuse to make use of that new name being passed around by his people. _It has to be!_

"Don't just stand there, you brat! This thing isn't going to wait forever!" He snapped back to find Transylvania impatiently waiting by a battered jeep, though the sibling's attempts at sounding rough still didn't quite sound as convincing. "Well, you wanna have something or not?!"

_Better not worry too much about it right now._ Debrecen sighed as he turned towards the car, smirking as he grabbed his spear and rifle. Against the breeze, it was one of those times when he was glad that his brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "You bet I do!"

But as the young Survivor-Nation got on, however, he couldn't help but notice a strange looking bird flying overhead. He remembered a folk tale about what some among his people called a _turul_. He also, for a brief moment, thought he heard something else in the wind. But the roar of the vehicle brought him back to reality. Somehow, he had a feeling that the day wasn't quite over just yet.

-o-

"Are…Are you serious?!" Debrecen still couldn't quite believe what he was reading. Despite his usual confidence, he almost fell from his chair upon seeing what's on the bundle of papers, the text printed prominently in both his and Vlad's languages. _You can't be…_ But even after going through it over and over, he found himself repeating the first words numbingly. "_V-Védelem és szabadság..._"

"_Protecţie şi libertate_," his brother finished for him with a cocky grin. "It won't be officially announced until tomorrow. And your own bosses won't get their formal documents before tonight. But I thought of showing you first." He blushed a little. "It's...it's just out of good will. Nothing more!"

Though Janos' eyes still remained fixed on the bundle, he could tell that the older kid's voice was sincere. Nonetheless, his frantic though still somewhat bony hands kept feeling the texture as if making sure it was real. "This soon..." he muttered, though more to himself. Granted, it didn't quite make him _entirely_ happy, as it made him all but part of Transylvania as a protectorate. And yet the idea that he would not only be guaranteed independence but also recognized as a full-fledged Nation in his own right was enough for a wide smile to line his face. But as much as he'd like to boast about this moment, which he usually did in times like this, more comfortable thoughts suddenly crossed his mind. And then…

"If my mother were to see this now..." he mused wistfully only to realize what he had said aloud. Before the Survivor-Nation could think of a good apology, however, the rather self-serving smirk on Vlad's face was gone.

"_Vă rog_. Don't start with this again!" the dark-eyed teen sighed. "I thought we got over this by now! She's not coming back! Besides, what good did she ever do to us?!"

"How are _you_ so sure?" Debrecen shot back out of impulse. "Anyway, what do you know about her that I don't?"

"What's there to find out? She's a damn Communist. A good-for-nothing Axis power! Oh, and before that, Austria's personal lapdog! It's all in the books! Trust me Janos, you're not missing much. Especially with the mess she and the rest of those jerks left behind with all those freaking bombs…"

The Survivor-Nation forced himself to listen as his brother kept on going. Though he's gotten used to hearing the same thing over and over, there was a good reason why he kept certain things about his past to himself. He couldn't quite remember anything earlier than those dark times following Doomsday, when the city guards found him huddled in an abandoned building. Yet somehow, he was sure that he had a mother. For reasons the boy couldn't explain, he knew bits and pieces about her land, people and history as though they too were his. He also knew that she's been looking after him in her own way. _Even in my dreams…_ The least he could do is to live up to her legacy. After all, wasn't he also_Magyar_? A child of Hungary? _Not that Vlad would believe any of that…_

At some point, however, his brother had stopped talking about her and instead turned to pour a cup of warm water. But as he glanced away to the open window, however, the boy found a familiar _turul_ sitting on the grimy porch. There seemed to be a small flower on its head. Though what caught him off guard were the words that came out of was only faint enough for him to hear, but he knew that voice all too well. Soft, gentle, yet still defiant.

"_Don't worry, my dear. You're never alone. I'll always be here…_"

The next thing he knew, however, she was gone. Everything seemed quiet outside. It was also starting to snow. Still, he couldn't help but give a warm smile. "_Köszönöm, anya_..."

"Were you saying something?" Transylvania asked, his tone somewhat confused.

"It's nothing," Janos answered back, the grin still on his face. "Let's just say there's more to her than what you think, alright?"

"Whatever," his brother shrugged. "Believe what you want. Anyway, I hope you're happy with the news, Debrecen…"

"Well, you might have to start calling me by another name." The young Magyar's smirk widened as his fingers trailed down the the document towards a word that kept popping out in the text. His own people were also starting to use it more and more, which he could easily get used to. _Besides, it had a good ring to it._ "How does Partium sound to you?"

* * *

As for some reference:

Debrecen is in real life the second largest city in Hungary, located at the eastern side close to Transylvania. In the Doomsday-verse, it was lucky to escape both the nuclear bombs and the chaos that destroyed the rest of the country.

Transylvania (who also goes by the Romanian nickname "Vlad") is another Survivor-Nation that emerged from the ashes of Romania following Doomsday. Over the years, it has come to be seen as both Romania's successor and a "big brother" to Partium/Debrecen. It's thanks in part to the Transylvanians that Partium got recognized internationally at all.

The tense dynamics between Romanians and Hungarians are a nod to the two countries' rather..._divisive_ history in real life.

A _turul_ is a mythological being in Hungarian folklore. Apparently it's a divine messenger that perches from the tree of life. Take a guess who "she" is.

_V-Védelem és szabadság_ - "Protection and Freedom" (Hungarian)  
_Protecţie şi libertate_ - "Protection and Freedom" (Romanian)  
_Vă rog_ - Please (Romanian)  
_Köszönöm, anya_ - "Thank you, mother." (Hungarian)


End file.
